


Torn Apart - Endverse!Cas One Shot

by GoldenMoose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse (Supernatural), Angst, Apocalypse, Castiel is Not Okay (Supernatural), Dead Dean Winchester, Depressed Castiel (Supernatural), Drug Use, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Lucifer Possessing Sam Winchester, M/M, No Fluff, Other, References to Depression, Sad, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23256682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenMoose/pseuds/GoldenMoose
Summary: After Canon verse Dean goes back to his own timeline, set on preventing the Croatian outbreak and rise of Lucifer in Sam's body, the Castiel from that time line finds his Dean's body in that Detroit garden. And the ex angel is torn apartThis is inspired by Cas-Watches-Over-You-artblog on Tumblr, and their wonderful Endverse!Cas art
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	Torn Apart - Endverse!Cas One Shot

Inspired by https://cas-watches-over-you-artblog.tumblr.com/post/190458849005/endversecas-smoking-shaking-trying-to-numb-his  
Please check it out it's PHENOMENAL  
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Take a swig.  
Take a drag.  
Sniffle and shake.  
Hand through the hair.  
Shake his head.  
Repeat.

They had been drifting for a while, but now he was gone  
He was gone and Castiel would never get him back. Another gulp of beer, another drag of weed. Something. Anything to drown it out. Numb it. Ease the pain.  
Nothing seemed to work.  
Not alcohol, not smoking, not pills, not sex, not sleep, nothing. The pain was still there, still aching and filling his cracks with bitter ooze.

With a heavy sigh Castiel leaned back against the headboard of, what had been for a good amount of years, he and Dean's bed. Cas supposed it was just his bed now. They had an odd run in with Dean from the past, and he thought it would be okay, both he and his own Dean thought it would be okay. They had the Colt, they knew where Lucifer was, this other Dean was going to help them, they would be okay. It was all supposed to be okay.  
But none of it was okay. When the gunfire stopped, and Castiel had found that garden, Lucifer was gone, and Dean lie in the grass, neck snapped and face blank.  
Gone. Painlessly gone.  
Years of fighting. Years of trying to make a difference. Gone.  
Broken and empty like Castiel was. It was bad enough that he had been stripped of his wings, punished to be human, left to fight a losing war with the only people that had ever called him family, the Angels had left, the demons were under Lucifer's rule, the Archangel had Sam as a vessel, the Croatian virus ran rapid, it was bleak, it was hard, it seemed impossible, but he had Dean. They had eachother and that kept them going for years.  
But now it was gone. The only thing keeping Castiel going, was gone. 

Castiel buried his face in his hands as silent tears streamed down his stubble cheeks. Pills and beer forgotten, joint finished, as he felt his trembling hands rub at his face.  
So many thoughts swirled in the ex Angel's mind, clawing at him, hissing from the darkest corners of his memories. The remaining damage from the Leviathans, from Lucifer, hissed and growled at him all the time, the voices of his fallen brothers and sisters, screamed at him. The drugs made it better, made it quiet. Much like Dean had.  
Being human sucked big time.

"I can't do this anymore." He sniffed, blue eyes blinked several times to clear the fog of tears, red and puffy from hours of silent sobbing. He had sobbed loudly, ugly cries had torn through his throat when he found Dean. Begged him to wake up, eading for this to be some ugly twisted joke, screaming at him to wake up and be fine, to breath, to smile, to shout at him, anything! But now all Castiel could do was silently let the tears fall. 

His voice croaked with lack of use as he looked around the little Cabin he and their precious leader had shared.  
It seemed so cold now, and granted it had been cold for a while, but, it was near freezing without Dean.  
Castiel pulled the blankets around himself, pulled his knees up, resting his cheek on them as more tears fell. He was surprised he could even still cry. 

Howling from the wind against the window only seemed to mimic how Castiel was feeling. Alone. He hadn't felt this completely alone in a long, long time.  
If only the booze would kick in, if only the light feeling of the pills and smoking would settle and make him completely numb!  
They helped, sure, but the pain was still there. Still twisting in his heart with every little reminder of Dean. Every piece of him throughout their cabin, throughout the camp, throughout his dreams and memories, only twisted the painful blade in his heart.

Castiel was sure if he still had grace, if he was still an angel, he could of done something, maybe Dean was still close enough that he could of healed him, maybe he could of even brought him back to life. Cas had even visited crossroads, and while those were very dangerous with the rabid infected running loose, he had tried.  
No one would take him. No demon would negotiate with him. They infact, reveled in his despair. Laughed at his pain.  
What hurt worse, was that Castiel didn't know where Dean's soul was.

While yes the Angels had left, Heaven still supposedly received innocent souls, and Hell was always open for business. If Dean was back in Hell Castiel would never be able to live knowing that. But not knowing seemed to be tearing him apart even more.  
With a defeated sigh Cas sat his head up enough to lazily grab a beer from beside his bed, where Chuck had found the stuff he never knew, nor did he ask. He just always supplies Dean with a stash, well, now it was Castiel's stash. Popping the lid the greasy haired hunter took a long swig and only stopped chugging when he needed to breathe.  
Breathing sucked.

"Why'd you leave Dean?" Castiel muttered, his voice low and raspy. Glaring at his half drank beer he threw it against the wall with a frustrated cry "Why'd you have to leave me!" He shouted as his hands found his hair. He was shaking, he couldn't stop "You son of bitch! You promised!" 

The sobs finally came in ugly gasping, hiccuped by his intoxication.  
"What happened? Why'd you have to go face him alone? Why'd you send me down the other way? Why Dean?" Castiel looked up at the ceiling, his nose was running, and as he looked up the tears ran down his temples and into his hair but he didn't give a fuck.  
The poor broken human couldn't find the fight in him anymore. 

Shaking hands found the pill bottle in the nightstand, and took a palm full with another gulp of a new beer, trembling fingers carefully lit another joint and brought, what he wished was relief, to his lips. He used to find relief in these things, something to keep his mind numb of anything other than survival and Dean.  
The drugs, the booze, the sex, it used to keep him from dwelling on his failures, Dean used to keep him from dwelling on all his attempts at doing right and failing. But now nothing was working and the only other human he truly ever loved was gone.

The man he rebelled for, became God for, dealt with Leviathans for, shut down Heaven for, worked with Crowley for, accepted Lucifer for, did all kinds of stupid shit for, was gone.  
And Castiel knew that they would never be reunited. Life was cruel like that.  
And it fucking sucked.

Now the man had to live out the rest of his useless existence without Dean Winchester, without Sam, without countless other friends, alone. He had to live our the rest of his poor excuse of a human life on his own.  
He would live it. It's how Dean would of wanted it right? For him to keep fighting the fight? To save the earth? To do something, anything to make a difference, to save a life.  
That's what he stood for wasn't it?  
Castiel didn't even know what he stood for anymore. His anchor was gone.

The knife twisted again in his heart and Castiel stared at the wall, empty. He felt so empty. So drained.  
He would keep fighting, and he would do it alone. Perhaps someone would have mercy on him when he finally bit the dust and allow him to be with Dean when the time came. Death was a bitch but even she couldn't be that cruel could she?

Finally Castiel's eyelids grew heavy and a yawn escaped him.  
He felt so void of all emotion and while it sucked, it gave him some relief to the pain. Though deep down Cas knew it would only come back when he woke up. This was his life now.  
Empty, lonely, fighting the fight out of obligation until he drew his last breath. With the only thing keeping him from ending it all himself was the faint hope of reuniting with his beloved Humanity.


End file.
